


I'll Never Smile Again

by emryjacksn6



Series: Cas and Dean [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1940s AU, Angst, Army, Destiel - Freeform, First Kisses, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soldiers AU, long pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-10-16 19:20:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emryjacksn6/pseuds/emryjacksn6
Summary: 1940. Commander General Dean Winchester is set the duty of preparing the new recruits for their time on the front lines. He's partnered with Commander General Castiel Novak in order to get the best and brightest soldiers for the US army, except things don't quite go to plan.





	1. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stopped dead in his tracks as he came face to face with Dean Fucking Winchester sitting at the table. Dean looked up, then back down then snapped his head back up to look at Cas so quickly he must have pulled something.
> 
> "C-Cas?" Dean stuttered, sitting up properly and staring at him wide-eyed
> 
> Well, Cas thought, Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Some bases, locations, and rankings are improvised seeing as Google only gets me so far in research. Also, it is more convenient for me to bend a couple facts here and there. For example, MCAS Yuma was built in 1928 (in line with the story) but only started getting used in 1959, so we'll say that it's been in use the whole time to make more sense in the story. 
> 
> NOTE 2: Anna comes off as kind of slutty, to begin with, but as the story goes on she'll become less and less slutty.

Dean Winchester never did excel in the classroom. He preferred ditching lessons and smoking behind the dumpsters during his time at high school; something he learned his father did when he was younger, and decided to try his luck at it. The only lesson he ever did show interest in was PE where he truly showed his skills. Working at his Uncle's auto-fix garage proved to have helped in his agility and strength, giving him school records in obstacle courses and gold medals come awards day. His younger brother, Sam (Sammy, to Dean), preferred the books and knowledge aspect of school but could throw a mean left-hook to anyone willing to try poking fun at him.

Mary, Sam and Dean's mother, often said that if Dean didn't join the armed forces he would probably be stuck fixing cars all his life. Growing up he never did see the problem with that. His Uncle Bobby had let Dean poke around with engines and tools when Dean turned five, and by the time he turned eleven years old Dean could fix up a simple motorbike in a couple hours. It made the buzzing in his mind lessen slightly and gave his fingers something to do for a while. When Dean turned eighteen the First World War took the USA by storm. Whilst the US didn't get involved in the war until the 6th April 1917, they felt the full force of German forces. 

John Winchester signed up for the army in May 1917, and by October the Winchesters received the yellow telegram stating that their beloved family member was KIA. Mary Winchester passed away on the 15th of November 1918, just four days after the first World War ceased. The house fire that took her life happened at midnight after a candle in Sam's room got knocked over. Police told Dean that Mary must have accidently knocked into it when checking on Sam, but Sam himself was lying in a hospital bed with smoke in his lungs at the time and Dean felt as if he would be the only remaining Winchester come morning.

Sam made a full recovery in a month and went back to school. Dean had just finished the senior year but ducked out of attending his own graduation. Bobby took in Sam whilst Dean packed up their house in Lawrence, and then Dean found himself signing up for the army. By the time Dean was twenty years old he had gone through training and was being promoted to Colonel.

* * *

_Singer Salvage Yard, Sioux Falls, South Dakota, December 1939_

Bobby's place has barely changed since Dean was a kid. More people have come to get their cars fixed here or to simply dump their old and beat up cars they no longer want. Bobby pays them to dump their crap in his yard so that things don't go to waste, and when a car gets fixed up it goes back on the market for 35% lower the price it was sold at originally. The property consists of several acres of land covered in stacked, wrecked cars, Bobby's house and outbuildings. The area is fenced by iron gates and trees, and Ed Singer (Bobby's father) is buried behind the woodshed.

Sam bought a place three miles down the road after marrying long-term girlfriend, Jessica. He got his degree as a lawyer at the age of 27 around five years ago, whilst Jessica works as a school teacher for the Sunday group at the local church. When Jess isn't at the Church every Sunday she's helping Bobby by answering letters, stacking check books and doing general housekeeping (that Bobby verbally complains about but secretly appreciates). Sam helps out as often as he can, and when Dean isn't at the army base or overseas he's also leaning over a car hood or underneath it replacing gears. 

The war hasn't affected the company at all. At most the only damage down was to Bobby's legs. When the First World War demanded US troops, Bobby was drafted a month and a half before it ended. Frostbite and Gangreen threatened to take his legs, and a bullet to his left thigh kept him immobilized for three years. After medication bottle after medication bottle and countless physical therapy sessions Bobby gained more movement and can stand and move about freely for a couple hours a day. Doctors predict that give him a year or so and he'll no longer need the wheelchair he uses to get himself around, and Bobby's taken that as an invitation to stop using it completely.

"Bobby," Jessica stood straight and sharply glared at her Uncle-in-law, "I don't care what you  _think_ Doctor-Ganger said, I  _know_ he said you still need the chair."

Sam grinned around the rim of his coffee mug, winking at his wife as she looked at him exasperatedly. Bobby edged himself out of the kitchen, mumbling about "idjits" on his way out, but he still slumped himself in his wheelchair when he reached hs desk. Jess sighed, falling onto her husband's right knee.

Jess sighed, falling onto her husband's right knee, "I feel as if half the time we're just arguing about utter crap."

"He loves you," Sam pushed aside her blonde hair and kissed her temple, "He doesn't like showing his appreciation for affection, 'it's'all." 

"Mhm," Jess closed her eyes, relaxing as Sam rubbed her arm over the sleeve of her dress.

"Boy, I do hope I ain't interrupting anything." 

Jess opened her eyes and smiled at Dean as he placed his duffel bag on the kitchen table, "Dean, always a pleasure."

"Pleasure's all mine, Jessie," Dean winked playfully at his sister and nodded at his brother. 

"Want a coffee?" Jess stood, fixing her hair and smoothing down her apron, "Just heated the water but that damn man decided to be difficult before I could do anything else."

"I ain't be difficult!" Bobby shouted from the conjoined sitting room. "Ya just insist on getting involved with another man's business-!"

Dean glanced at Sam who just gave him a "don't ask" look, at the same time as Jess glared at Bobby again and shut the sliding doors to cut off the man mid-sentence.

"So," Jess smiled, patting Dean's shoulder, "Coffee?"

"Please." Dean grinned, "And-"

"Pie, yes, I know." Jess patted his cheek and set out getting plates and cups together. Dean jogged up the stairs quickly to set his duffel in the spare bedroom and locked the trunk at the end of the bed with a padlock. The trunk holds Sam's, Jess's and Bobby's Christmas presents that Dean picked up from New York when he stationed over there, and Sam's already tried his luck with snooping around in an attempt to find his. 

When he made it to the foot of the stairs again Jess was taking away a book from Bobby and replacing it with a mug of black coffee and a plate with a slice of cherry pie. She turned on the radio on her way out, pointing at the edge of Bobby's desk showing where Dean's own mug and plate sat.

"So," Bobby grumbled as Dean collected his plate and fell onto the couch underneath the window, "When are they shipping ya out then?"

Dean flicked his eyes at the kitchen where Sam pulled Jess onto his lap again and flipped the newspaper over to the puzzles, unaware of Dean watching him. 

"Wednesday," Dean spoke, shoving three forkfuls of pie into his mouth in quick succession.

Bobby looked at him with narrowed eyes, as if he knows Dean is hiding something from him. "That's two days after Christmas, what's the hurry?"

Wincing through his mouthful, Dean swallowed the remainder of his pie and chugged his coffee too just to waste time. "New recruits are causing more of a problem than they thought. Boss has decided to get them actually trained before giving 'em guns."

"And don't tell me they're making ya do it?"

Dean shrugged, "Higher cheques-"

"We don't need no more money you dumbass!" Bobby wheeled himself closer to the couch, "The money from the yard is enough, plus Sam's cheques plus yours already. Dean, if you're doing this just to get more money I will send you down to Hell's Gates myself."

"Bobby," Dean rolled his eyes, shrugging off his leather jacket, "I ain't doing it for no more money."

"Then what then?"

"It's safer!" Dean hissed, standing up to slide the doors shut so Sam and Jess can't hear, "It means more of a chance me making it out of the war alive than it does going and fighting. Now I ain't no coward, but if I get a chance to stay in the backlines and come home when this hell-crap blows over then you can be damn sure I'm a take it."

Bobby shook his head and wheeled himself back over to his desk. "The Fordhill's dropped their old banger off this morning, mind taking a look at the engine. They ain't getting rid of it or nothing, just wants it tuned up."

"Bobb-"

"Stupid bastards paid double than what I asked," Bobby ignored him, opening up his books instead, "Well go on, the stuff's not gonna fix itself."

***

Dean banged his head against the car bonnet and swore loudly, shooting Jess a glaring look as she tried to stifle a giggle under her hand. 

"Sorry," Jess cleared her throat, lips tugging up as Dean rubbed the back of his head and dropped the oily rag back into his toolkit, "Just came over to say that the Fordhill's called, they thank you for the car. Says it runs smoother than it did when they first got it. Also, Sam tried to pick the lock on your trunk too. Cut his thumb and acted like a baby for a solid half hour."

Dean snorted, slamming the hood of the car he's working on down. "Some things you don't learn out of books, Jessie, lock picking being one of 'em."

"I'll be sure to mention it to him," Jess smiled as he slipped his arm around her shoulder and started leading them out of the garage. In return, Jess held her own arm around his waist and hummed along to Dean's whistling. 

"When you heading out?" She asked, sidestepping a tire. Dean tightened his grip on her as they reached a slope of wet mud. 

"Wednesday," He said, "In Arizona for God knows how long."

"You stay safe, yeah." Jess tugged his arm back as they reached the steps leading up to Bobby's porch. "I don't want to go to no more funerals anytime soon you hear?"

Dean took in Jess' pleading eyes and nodded slowly. "I'll be back in one piece, promise."

"Good." Jess patted his cheek, "Got any idea what ya want to eat tonight. Sam has no input today since he's acting like a child."

***

Christmas Day came and went as quickly as it did during the First War. They exchanged presents, laughed at Sam's old embarrassing high school stories and watched cartoons on Channel 2. Boxing Day was a rush of fixing cars and getting into town to pick up Dean's uniform. They found that people had more respect for them after Dean stepped out in his Commanding General uniform, and guys that used to badmouth the Winchester-Singer family instead saluted them as they passed by.

At exactly 4:58 AM on Wednesday, December 27th Dean woke up, washed his face, showered and polished his shoes. The other three were up by 5:30, and at 6:14 they were hugging goodbye one last time on Platform 2 at the train station. 

Dean held onto Sam three minutes longer than he did with Jess or Bobby but swallowed the tears back. He promised to be back home as soon as possible before boarding his train on final call.

Sitting through the 35.47-hour journey (consisting of four trains and a ten-minute walk between them) proved difficult when wearing the most uncomfortable uniform ever, and the shoes Dean's wearing are rubbing his ankles the wrong way. The woman opposite him eyed him up for the first ten minutes of the journey but gave up when he didn't so much as spare her a second glance. When she got off at Omaha a mother took her seat. She nodded politely at Dean, who smiled back and winked at the small child clutching her hand. The boy grinned back at Dean and spent the 10-hour journey from Omaha to Denver sat on Dean's lap and asking about each individual medal Dean has been decorated with repeatedly. The mother thanked Dean for keeping her son entertained and thanked him for his service to their country. After telling them to stay safe and making sure they got a taxi (which he paid for when the woman wasn't looking) Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the bus stop. There he took a lonely ride to the other station and boarded another train to Las Cruces. On the final train journey, Dean fell asleep for three hours, waking up during the last hour as they rode through the final stretch of land in New Mexico. 

Yuma was a bustle of army uniforms boarding and hopping off of trains, crying families either welcoming or waving off their loved ones, and the occasional child too young to know what's going on weaving between long legs to play with toy planes and tanks. 

Dean checked into his station, flirting with the woman at the desk for a while before letting a bell boy escort him to his room. The lad said he was currently in his second year at college and therefore didn't need to go off to fight, but is a part of the group set up by the army to train regardless. Dean gave him three dollars as a tip and some advice on what to do during training before getting some more shut eye. 

When he woke up again it was morning and he had three hours to kill before he was due to get to his meeting. He dug through his room to inspect every millimeter from top to bottom five times, unpacked twice and repacked three times and switched on the small TV he was given. Cartoons filled the screen and Dean sat to watch them for an hour before the small bell boy from yesterday delivered a file for him. 

Dean paid half of his attention to the file on his lap, and half of his attention on the cartoons still playing. That was until he read the one word he was not expecting to read.

_Partner_

* * *

Castiel Novak was born a miracle. The youngest of six children (and twin to one of them) Cas and his twin brother, Jimmy, were expected to be born with multiple genetic problems after their mother was involved in a car accident in her last month of pregnancy. Chuck and Becky Novak expected their final two children to die in childbirth, but both boys were born healthy and perfectly normal.

Becky Novak was caught cheating on Chuck when Cas was five, and when he was six Becky moved away to Canada. Chuck was left to raise six children by himself, which turned to five when Micheal (the oldest son) packed up and left when he turned eighteen. Chuck worked back-to-back shifts at four different jobs to make ends meet, so Luci and Balthazar were left to make sure Gabriel, Jimmy, and Castiel got a somewhat normal life. 

Cas grew more fond of his brothers than he did his own father, which proved to be probably for the best when Chuck was hospitalized for excessive drinking when Cas was fifteen. Cas enlisted to the army when he was sixteen, and by seventeen he was training at MCB Camp Pendleton in California. Jimmy went on to become a preacher in Brooklyn, Balthazar works for a detective squad in Manhatten and Gabriel does off jobs around the country. Luci was arrested when he was 22 on account of identity fraud but was released after a year. 

Cas sometimes thinks that if his mother had never cheated and left them things would have turned out all right. He kids himself sometimes into thinking that he wouldn't have joined the army when he did, and he would have probably gone into teaching like he wanted to at fourteen. He blames his father, mostly, for drinking so much his liver started eating itself. That might have been the final straw he needed to get away, but the other contributing factors had started long before then too. 

* * *

  _MCAS Yuma training base, Arizona, December 27th, 1939_

"You know," Anna Milton, one of the nurses at MCAS Yuma training camp in Arizona sighed, looking up at Cas through her lashes, "Lotta guys would love to be in your position."

Cas rolled his eyes and continued sorting out his tie. He got to Yuma on Boxing Day, and Anna had been around him since. She's been working here since the war started in September, and the other men and boys around the base haven't been enough to keep her company yet. When Cas showed up she quickly realized he was the talk of the town, especially seeing as he is one of the youngest commanding generals histories have ever seen. His name will be plastered in history books for years to come, and it's just a bonus he's good looking too. 

Except for one small problem: Cas isn't interested in her. 

Not one bit.

He doesn't seem interested in the amount of skin on show, or the fact that she's a nurse and that's just every guy's first wet dream. The engineers who whistle at her every time she walks by give her the attention she graves, but Cas prefers keeping his distance between them. In fact, he doesn't even seem interested in becoming friends either.

"Whole lotta guys," Anna muttered, huffing as Cas shrugged on his blazer and sat on the bench lining the wall to put on his shoes. 

"Mhm," Cas hummed, the first sound Anna's heard come out of him all day, "I'm pretty sure Leo from intercoms will be more than happy to switch places with me. Actually, I'll go find him now for you."

He ducked out of the room before Anna could do so much as blink, and shivered quickly as the image of him somehow ending up in bed with her flashed through his mind. He's in Yuma for two weeks tops, just to meet the team and set up timings with his partner for the training before they head off to France to actually commence training.

 _Partner_.

Cas already hates whoever he's supposed to be working with. He became commanding general individually, he went through training individually, he grew up individually since he was six-fucking-teen. He doesn't need a partner in order to do his job, but apparently, his bosses think he does.

"Novak."

Speak of the devil.

His boss, Crowley, is a bit on the chubby side, wears black constantly and owns 47% of all military organizations in the world. He's one of the richest men in the world and, currently, holds more power than President Roosevelt. Cas does have to give him credit though, Crowley does his job no matter what obstacle comes his way. He's ruthless yet efficient, everything a leader should be.

"Mr. Crowley." Cas nodded, falling into step beside him as they pass through the corridor.

"Settled in?" 

"Yes, finely sir."

"Good," Crowley nodded, handing Castiel a file that Cas has already read dozens of times beforehand. He didn't bother opening it up again, just tucked it under his arm and continued to walk beside Crowley.

"A meeting's been scheduled for 1300 hours, there you will meet your partner and you will begin the process of planning. If there is, for some reason or another, implications in this ordeal which result in your absence to this meeting you will be physically removed from the site and your medals will be stripped. Do I make myself clear, General?" 

"Yes, sir."

Crowley paused, spinning on his heel to face Castiel face to face. He studied the Commanding General for a moment before nodding approvingly. "I've always liked you, it must be because of your charming charisma seeing as you are in no way suitable for your position - in my opinion anyway - so do not make me rethink my choices. My bosses will be... displeased if I have to fire yet another pair of generals."

Cas bit down his snarky remark and nodded tightly. "Yes, sir." He gritted his teeth, flexing his jaw as Crowley smirked at him and swaggered down the hall again. "Assbutt," Cas muttered under his breath, checking his watch to see he has fifteen minutes before his meeting.

He snatched a coffee from the canteen on his way to the room, finishing it off just before entering. He stopped dead in his tracks as he came face to face with Dean Fucking Winchester sitting at the table. Dean looked up, then back down then snapped his head back up to look at Cas so quickly he must have pulled something.

"C-Cas?" Dean stuttered, sitting up properly and staring at him wide-eyed

 _Well,_ Cas thought,  _Fuck._


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean looks at Cas' eyes, then his lips and back up to his eyes as the countdown begins in the hangar. Cas licks his lips once they reach twenty.
> 
> Cas licks his lips once they reach twenty.
> 
> Dean's hand is on Cas' thigh at eighteen, Cas' fingers are on the back of Dean's neck at thirteen.
> 
> They're kissing before they reach five.

_Columbus, Ohio, April 1923 (16 years prior)_

_It's wrong. They both know it's wrong, but they don't really seem to care as Cas pushed Dean against the wall and starts unbuttoning his shirt, kissing him roughly the entire time. They've been in Ohio for three months now, training endless hours for a fight brewing in Germany as Hitler gains more power (although no one really is sure that the fight will even happen). They're still too young, Cas only 21 and Dean 20, too young to be training for an evitable war and too young to be carrying such powerful ranks. But the powerful ranks mean separate living quarters to other people, which mean more privacy in situations like this._

_Trying to even touch each other innocently in a normal bunk room would have raised all kinds of issues, but here - in Dean's room with the blinds shut, all doors locked and windows sealed shut - they can do whatever the hell they want with zero interruption._

_Dean has his right hand in Cas' hair and his left hand gripping tight onto Cas' ass, grinding them both together whilst panting against his lips at the same time. Cas manages to squeeze his hand in the front of Dean's boxer shorts and Dean swears, throwing his head back roughly and swallowing down a groan._

_It's clumsy and rushed but they don't care. Dean tries five times to get on top and trying to taking the reigns for once but Cas is stronger than him and manages to pin him down. When they're finished, sweaty and panting, they're under the covers, sheets pulled up to their cheekbones as they kiss lazily and run wet hands over the other's body._

_"I love you," Dean whispers quietly into Cas' hair, nuzzling his nose against the black locks causing his breath to stir it slightly. Cas clutches tighter onto Dean's hips and kisses his shoulder._

_"I love you too."_

_They grin at each other stupidly because they believe the other one, believe they have their whole lives to say it before Dean finally flips them over and kisses Cas again._

* * *

_Yuma, Arizona, December 27th, 1939 (Present day)_

Cas didn't expect to see Dean ever again. In June 1923 Dean was promoted and their time together was cut short when Cas was deployed over to Hawaii. They hadn't thought of getting addresses from the other one because Cas was only supposed to be a month and then they would be back together. Cas was away for six weeks, but when he got back he was told Dean had gone - packed up one night and didn't turn back. 

No one knew where he was, and it was only then that Cas realized he knew very little about the man he said he loved. He didn't know about his family (if he even had any left), where he grew up, basic trivial facts about him... all he knew was the selected pieces of information that Dean had dropped into conversations - and even then people around base back then had known Dean better. 

Dean didn't look any different. The only physical difference Cas could see was the added muscle and a few scars, but other than that he was  _Dean_. Tanner than he was sixteen years ago, and he held himself differently too but it was Dean through and through. The same one that couldn't fall asleep with the window open, who said 'son of a bitch' at least ten times a day minimum, who hugged everyone like he would never see them again and the one who's smile could light up the whole damn room in seconds.

And if it weren't for the fact that Dean had left without a word, breaking Cas' heart, Cas would have raced over and never let Dean go again. He would have apologized profusely for having gone even though Cas didn't do anything wrong. Cas was close to taking a step forward towards him, but then he remembered the long nights where dreams (both good and bad) of Dean had kept him awake. He remembered the aching hole in his chest that was created when he found out Dean went, and he remembered when he realized - exactly two months after Dean disappeared - that Dean may well have been lying-

No,  _was lying_ about loving Cas. Becuase you don't leave someone you love, even in situations such as theirs. Or you at least leave a note or an address, or a number or  _something_ but Cas got  _nothing_.

"Cas?" Dean's standing but isn't stepping forward. He's wearing the same uniform as Cas which is irritating because Dean looks ten times better than any other person with the blazer and slacks. He's also wearing those stupid boots that he never parted with, and Cas can see that equally as stupid leather jacket on the seat that Dean was occupying. 

Cas swallowed roughly, finally meeting Dean's ~~gorgeous~~ stupid green eyes, putting up a facade of pure hatred and betrayal. "Dean."

* * *

_Columbus, Ohio, July 19th, 1923 (16 years ago)_

_Dean's staring out of the window. He has been for the past two hours with the same blank face, dead eyes of someone who had just experienced the worst thing in the world. The nurse taking his blood smiled weakly at him when she finished up, stuck a cotton ball over the injection spot, tapped it securely and then left without a sound. For the past two hours, it's been nothing but test after stupid test. The doctors have taken a pint and a half of his blood, made him piss in a cup and then swiped a wooden stick on the inside of his cheek for a DNA sample._

_The entire time Dean hasn't said a word, and no one's tried to get him to speak. Anna Milton, a grad student of 18 years old had tried to when coming in to check his condition but gave up when Dean wouldn't even look at her. She did, however, sit with him and hold his hand when he started a panic attack. When it was over and he sobered up enough to continue staring at the window she wiped his face with a wet cloth to get rid of the tear streaks and then left the room._

_The horror of it all flashed through his eyes again and Dean tore his gaze from the window. He looked at his hands, bloody, cut, beaten and dirty with mud - clenched in fists since the incident. Slowly and painfully he flexed his fingers out straight, wincing as dry crusts of mud dropped to the floor. The hospital room he's been given has an attached bathroom, small but useful. Dean stood up, cleaned his hands (only the corner of his mouth twitching showing the pain of when the soap got into his cuts) before Dean wiped them on a small hand towel provided and then sat back in his original place._

_It's started to rain and Dean's hurtled back to when his High School Literature teacher tried to get him to understand pathetic fallacy. He's not sure if it applies in the situation seeing as the bad thing's already gone and been, but he saw the irony anyway._

_A small knock at the door vibrated through the too quiet room and Doctor Dumler strode in carrying a clipboard. His assistant followed behind, pushing a trolley of Dean's belongings._

_"Evening, Dean," Doctor Dumler started, waving his assistant off who shut the door silently behind him, "I see you've been up and about," He nodded towards Dean's hands and gave him a smile._

_"How did it happen?" Dean asked, voice cracking. It's the first he's spoken since the incident and Dumler looked at him surprised, "The accident," Dean said, "How did it happen?"_

_Dumler seemed to be having an internal debate with himself, before sighing and taking off his glasses. He situated himself in the wooden chair beside the bed and set the clipboard on Dean's lap. "Inadequate information was leaked to our sources." He finally spoke, "And I'm afraid that's all I can say for now. People are investigating the case. Once we have all the correct information we'll let you know."_

_Dean remained silent._

_"There is, however," Dumler said slowly, "Now a chance for you to go home. We just need you to-"_

_"Are the unit from Hawaii back yet?"_

_Dean barely moved and Dumler was taken aback, thinking momentarily that he had imagined the sentence. It wasn't until Dean looked at him and repeated the question that he realized Dean was actually speaking. "I..." He started, confused at the sudden interest in another unit rather than the accident that nearly killed Dean, "As far as I'm aware they've just been given the all clear to come back. They should be here by Thursday. Why? Is there-"_

_"No." Dean interrupted gruffly, "Just-" He cleared his throat and looked down at the clipboard in his lap, "Just wondering."_

_Dumler nodded, watching as Dean picked up a pen and started filling out the boxes on the form. Ten minutes later the hospital was calling Sam Winchester, Dean's younger brother, and explaining all about the incident. By midnight Dean was on the train back to Kansas._

* * *

 

_Yuma, Arizona, December 27th, 1939 (Present day)_

Dean had told himself for sixteen years that Cas would get over him, that it was just a stupid infiltration that they had for each other and that they never really did mean it when they said they love each other.

Except Dean meant it.

Every single time he whispered the three words to Cas Dean meant it.  _Every. Single. Time._

It hurt for the first couple months when Dean got back home. The physical wounds he had eventually went away and Sam stopped trying to be a mother hen. Bobby got him straight into work when Dean's hands worked again, and then Jess came along who didn't once look at Dean like he was anything less than a hero. No one knew about the accident unless they were told specifically, and Dean was told that the US Army was trying to keep it covered up. Dean was invited to a meeting at the White House to thank him for his "sacrifice" for his country, but he didn't attend. When his legs stopped aching Dean went out more. He tried to drown the guilt of leaving Cas with alcohol and one night stands, but the escape from reality only lasted the night. When he woke up again, hungover and in a stranger's bed, the guilt would come crashing in again, worse than the day before.

Dean felt stupid, but by the time he plucked up enough courage to write to those at the base in Ohio he was told that everyone was either sent out to a different base or they went home. Searching for Cas was stupid; Dean had no clue about his address, family, hobbies,  _nothing._

After five years Dean stopped sleeping around. He carried on drinking whiskey like it was water and throwing himself into work whenever it came up. Sam graduated from Law School and Dean clapped the loudest at the ceremony. When Sam got married Dean was both the best man and the one giving Jess away, but after the reception and the after party Dean went home to an empty house and got high. One of the bridesmaids that kept eyeing up Dean bumped into him at the corner shop the next morning and tried her luck again, but was ultimately turned down again. 

And now Cas is in front of him - hair as messy as it was when Dean last saw him, eyes bluer than before and he's packed on more muscle since their last meeting. He looks exactly the same, but he's looking at Dean like Dean's just committed the worst crime in existence and Dean knows he screwed up majorly. 

"Dean."

It comes out harsh and cracked. Cas swallows thickly afterward, blinking rapidly three times and Dean drops his shoulders slightly. "Hiya Cas." He tries weakly, his corners tugging up sheepishly. Cas continued to stare at him, disbelief and something else slapped across his face until Crowley walked in the room.

"Ah, I see you've introduced yourselves already," He threw some files and a couple pens onto the circular table in the center of the room and then linked his hands together behind his back, "Well I don't want to be here any longer, you know what you need to do. This will be your office until we dispatch you and your unit later on. If you have any complaints, don't come to me, I won't care."

He was gone as quick as he came, shutting the door behind him and swamping the room into silence once more. Cas is still standing by the door, looking down at his feet and Dean's standing by his chair, looking at Cas.

"Cas-"

"Don't." 

Dean swallowed and shrunk back as Cas glared up at him, eyes red and glossy. Cas ran his hands through his hair and chuckled sarcastically. 

"This is just-" He shook his head and looked at Dean again, "God, do you have  _any idea_ what you did?"

"Cas-" Dean tried again but he was cut off again.

"No!" Cas exploded, thankful that the office is away from other rooms and there's no reason for anybody else to be lingering in the corridor, "No! You don't get to try and explain yourself or tell me it wasn't your fault.  _You_ left.  _You_ did that. Not me."

"I didn't want to!" Dean argued, staring at Cas intently. "God do you really think that after  _everything_ I would just up and leave without a word? Do you think I'm that cold-hearted? Fuck sake Cas, if it was anyone else then sure but not to you. I would never do that to you intentionally."

By this time they were somehow on the same side of the table, arm's length away and Dean can see the dark circles around Cas' eyes and the scar by his ear he got as a kid. Cas can see every freckle on Dean's face and the day old stubble on his chin. Dean wants to touch Cas like he used to but Cas looks heartbroken and angry at the same time, and when the proximity between them finally registered Cas cleared his throat and looked down at the files on the table.

"We better..." He trailed off, taking a step back and sitting down. Dean bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, moving back around to sit in his chair across from Cas and reaching for a file. Every now and again Dean felt Cas' eyes on him but every time he looked up Cas was looking at the paper in front of him. No words were exchanged between them unless they had to do with the work in front of them, and by the time six rolled around Cas picked up his jacket and left without another word. 

Dean leaned his head back, sighed, swore and then looked at the door Cas just left through. "I'm screwed." 

***

Three days later Dean runs into Anna Milton. It takes a couple moments to the name and face to become familiar and then Anna sees him, smiles brightly and rushes over to hug him tightly. The translator that was trying to feel her up waited for a couple minutes for them to catch up but eventually got bored and headed towards the medical block in search for another nurse. Dean and Anna fill each other in on what's been going on with themselves, and Anna gushes about how well Dean's recovered. 

Cas passes them by and barely looks at them, just gives a tilt of his head as Anna greets him. Later that night everyone on base heads into town looking for a bar. They find one nestled in the corner of town, small and barely busy when they crowd through the doors. The bartenders need to call in for other workers, and in thirty minutes the top shelf is cleared of all alcohol. One of the pilots starts playing some kind of jig music on the piano and everyone's moods brighten more.

Dean's by the bar, one arm around Anna's waist as she rambles on about some trip she took to Mexico recently. Dean's nodding along but isn't really paying attention. His eyes are looking over the top of Anna's head towards the door, where Cas is talking to one of the female telegramers. She's laughing with her nose scrunched up and her hand on Cas' bicep, squeezing slightly. Cas' cheeks are flushed and it looks like he's finishing off a second pint when the girl he's with orders a round of shots. 

He's jealous. Dean-fucking-Winchester is jealous of some post-grad twenty-year-old woman because she has Cas' undivided attention. For the past three days, Dean's been getting nothing but side glances and one-word answers. Cas looks over at him and their eyes lock, both girls they're with still talking. Dean sees Cas' eyes flick down to Anna and then his jaw tenses slightly. And that's when it hits Dean.

_Cas is jealous too._

And if it weren't for the fact that Cas has been ignoring every attempt Dean's made at starting conversations, or just passed him without a second glance, or given him snapped remarks, or the complete ignorance of the fact that Dean isn't entirely to blame Dean probably would have excused himself from Anna and turned to Cas. But Cas has been treating him like shit for the past three days, so Dean looked down at Anna and asked if she wanted to get out of here. Anna stumbled on her words for a second before only managing a nod quickly. They drown the rest of their drinks and Dean slides his hand down into the back pocket of Anna's dress as they pass the door by Cas. 

They make out for a while in the alley next to the bar before they stumble their way back to base and into Anna's room. It consists of three beds on different sides of the room, with three sets of every piece of furniture. Anna guides him towards the middle one and kisses him again. Dean sucks a hickey into her hip and lets her leave scratches down his chest and back. Anna doesn't seem fazed as Dean gets up afterward and starts to get dressed again. Neither says a word as Dean leaves, shutting the door after him and making his way to the officer barracks across the base. 

Cas' room is opposite Dean's, and Cas himself is unlocking his door when Dean jogs up the stairs. Cas takes one look at Dean's messy uniform and sweaty skin, rolls his eyes and slams his door shut after him. Dean's so used to the guilt in the pit of his stomach that he doesn't even react anymore, just falls into bed. He wakes up in the middle of the night and just makes it to the bathroom in time to throw up. His back stings when he takes off his shirt, and the eight parallel scratches pulse red and angry when Dean twists to look at them in the mirror. Dean groans, fighting off images of doing this exact same thing sixteen years ago except back then it was Cas' fingernails leaving trails of lines and not Anna's. 

Dean throws back six shots before he collapses into the armchair by the open window. He falls asleep thinking about the last time he saw Cas smile at him.

* * *

_December 31st, 1939_

Cas wakes up at ten in the morning with a pounding hangover. He vaguely remembers getting involved in a drinking game with some guys from the translating labs after seeing Dean leave with Anna, and then drowning half a bottle of tequila when he saw Dean stumble up the steps looking like a mess. He knows they slept together and for some reason or another, it hurts. Cas feels hypocritical because it's not like he's been celibate for the past sixteen years but the knowledge that Dean had slept with someone else stabbed at his heart strings. 

Cas shook his head, got dressed and headed over to the office. It was midday when Dean walked in, a cup of coffee in his hand and a couple files tucked under his free arm. Much to Cas' surprise, the coffee wasn't for Dean. He slid it across the table when he sat down, and nodded at Cas briefly before flicking open a file and starting to write. A small smile tugged at Cas' lips as he took a sip. It's black coffee, one sugar with a drop or two of cream. Cas actually moans, like full out  _moans_ at the taste and Dean snorts.

"Thanks." Cas wipes at his mouth to get rid of any evidence of the coffee on his lips. Dean looks at him and gives him a small wink.

"No problem," He shrugs it off, "Thought you might be hungover and coffee usually helps."

"And if I wasn't hungover?"

"Then you just got a free coffee," Dean leans back and taps his pen against the paper. Cas looks at him and a brief smile comes across Dean's face.

"What?"

Dean shakes his head softly and looks down at his lap before looking back at Cas when he receives a kick to the shins. "It's just..." He trails off again, clearing his head before mumbling a "nothing" and getting back to his work. The rest of the day involves them actually talking to get things done quicker until one of Crowley's assistant's wheels in a telegram mission. Dean works better with machinery, they found out, due to working with cars his whole life so he types out ten telegrams before six rolls around and they leave the office together. 

***

Cas fell asleep briefly when he got back to his bunk, and is woken up at around eleven in the night by someone pounding restlessly on his door. He doesn't bother buttoning up his shirt as he swings the door open and catches Dean's fist before it collides with his chest. Dean's not dressed like he normally is. He's in normal civilian wear and his stupid boots. Cas lets his eyes sweep his body quickly, his brain too sleepy to even think of the repercussions. 

Which, in turn, end up being pointless because when he looks at Dean's face again he finds Dean's eyes are directed at his naked chest. Cas smirks slightly and moves the door further open to get his attention. Dean has the decency to blush at least and wipe his mouth before looking Cas in the eye and giving him a cocky grin.

"Now if you were trying to seduce me Cas, all you had to do was say so." 

Cas rolls his eyes and leans against the doorframe. "I'll keep that in mind for the next time I decide to 'seduce' you."

The comment throws Dean off a bit and Cas makes a mental tally in his head of a number of times he's done it. Eventually, Dean comes back to his senses and orders Cas to get dressed. Ten minutes later Dean's dragging him into one of the plane hangers where nearly everyone's gathered for a New Years party. He expects Dean to move off and greet people, leaving Cas to find his own way around but (much to his surprise) Dean slings an arm around Cas' shoulder and moves them around the room to introduce Cas to two specific people. 

Benny and Charlie both work in logistics. Dean tells Cas that he met Charlie back in High School, and he's known Benny since '25. Charlie's short with ginger hair and keeps calling all three of them 'bitches' as a collective term of endearment, and she's obsessed with old movies and games. Benny's around the same height as Cas, big with muscle and has a pointed glare 24/7 but he calls everyone 'brother' (even Charlie - who prefers to be called 'Queen') and Cas soon finds himself laughing along as Benny and Charlie recount embarrassing stories of Dean they can remember. They ask how Dean and Cas know each other (Benny pointedly looking at Dean's arm which is still around Cas' shoulders) and Cas interferes before Dean can say anything.

"Worked together in Columbus in '23." Cas shrugs as if it were no big deal. "Had to deal with his ego for about seven months before I was deployed to Hawaii. Only met him again around four days ago." 

Charlie takes it upon herself to fill him in with everything that he's missed in Dean's life until Dean suddenly cries out someone's name. It sounds like 'Gavin' but then Dean repeats it and Cas makes out 'Kevin'. Dean lets go of Cas to pull an Asian kid into a bear hug, but then Dean's back to holding onto Cas when he pulls away. Kevin's introduced to Cas just as Charlie pushes a bottle of beer into Cas' hands. Kevin looks nervous and out of his comfort zone but Dean whispers into Cas' ear that unless Kevin has a foreign language in front of him that's in need of translating he just permanently looks like a scared toddler. 

It takes Kevin five minutes to warm up to the group, and then it's half-past eleven. Nearly everyone in the hangar is drunk or on the verge of getting hammered. Soon it becomes too crowded and the five of them head out to sit on the steps of the officer barracks. Dean and Benny pull out a cigarette each as Charlie sits behind Cas and starts tapping morse code against his neck, getting both Cas and Kevin to guess what she's coding.

One code says "Dean's a dick" and Cas giggles it out, causing Dean to kick him in the hip and hit Charlie round the back of her head. She laughs it off and Cas just grins at Dean around the top of his beer. Dean winks at him and it's enough to spread a faint blush on Cas' cheeks. No one else seemed to notice, except Dean who's heart soared (as cringy as it sounds) and he grinned wider. At five-to-midnight Kevin and Charlie race back to the hangar to count down with everyone else, whilst Benny only leaves when it gets to two minutes before the countdown starts. 

Dean and Cas promise to be there in time, using the fact that Dean's just started another smoke as an excuse to stay behind. Dean moves down a couple steps to sit beside Cas, but the steps aren't wide enough to fit both men comfortably and so they're pressed up against each other tightly. Cas takes a swing of beer which is still pretty much full and hands it off to Dean when Dean holds out his hand. Dean exchanges it for his cigarette and Cas takes a long drag of it, leaning his head back to exhale the smoke. He watches it dance with the air around them and disappears before repeating the action. He gives Dean back the last couple drags of it and Dean hands the beer back over. 

They stay silent, pressed against each other as Dean stomps out the remaining bud and Cas finishes the beer. He turns his head to say something to Dean but they're closer than he thought he would be and the words die out in his mouth. 

Dean looks at Cas' eyes, then his lips and back up to his eyes as the countdown begins in the hangar. Cas licks his lips once they reach twenty.

Dean's hand is on Cas' thigh at eighteen, Cas' fingers are on the back of Dean's neck at thirteen.

They're kissing before they reach five. An explosion of cheers erupt from the hangar and it's loud enough to make the two men pull away. They're panting heavily, buffs of air pushing past their lips which are still too close. Dean presses his forehead to Cas' and exhales deeply. Thirty seconds pass before it sinks in and Cas swears before stumbling up the steps and locks himself into his room. He ignores Dean as Dean pounds his fist on the door and yells Cas' name, confused and scared at the same time. Dean gives up and Cas hears the slam of Dean's own door.

Cas falls back against the wall and lets the panic attack envelop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts are more than welcome in the comment section, or on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deanisbiandlovescas)


	3. III

_Youngstown, Ohio, February 1923_

_They've been sent to Youngstown so that their units can be evaluated. Their units remain in Columbus, but by army regulations officers are not allowed to be on base when evaluations are taking place. Dean's not complaining because the hotel they've been staying in the past few days has thick walls and the staff doesn't try to get in their rooms whilst they're away. This is crucial otherwise they'll ask why Dean has two suitcases in his room and why Cas has none in his. It's two rooms to a floor, so sneaking in every night isn't exactly difficult, but Cas goes back to his room every now and again to make it look lived in._

_Now though, now Dean's got his head on Cas' chest and Cas is playing with his hair. Dean's pretty sure that the shirt Cas is wearing is actually his, but Dean can't remember if he's wearing his own shirt or if it's Cas'. Either way, it's comfortable and smells like both of them. Dean's tracing small designs on the exposed skin of Cas' abdomen from where he's racked up his shirt, and Cas' fingers are soothing as they scrape against his scalp. Cas shifts his hips and exhales into Dean's hair, moving his fingers to play with the hairs on the back of Dean's neck. His pinkie slips underneath the collar of his shirt and rubs gently against the skin there. Dean smiles into Cas' chest and lifts his head to steal a brief kiss._

_Cas hums contently and smiles as Dean tugs at his bottom lip. They kiss lazily for a while and then Dean gets up to go to the bathroom. When he clambers back into bed Cas pulls him in tight so Dean's back is pressed against his chest. Dean reaches for Cas' hand and kisses the back of his knuckles gently. Dean moans softly as Cas kiss the back of Dean's neck and Cas chuckles against his skin._

_"I love you," Cas whispers and Dean smiles despite Cas not seeing him._

_"I love you more."_

_"Debateable."_

_Dean snorts and tightens his grip on Cas' fingers, "Oh yeah? Try me, Novak."_

_"Challange accepted, Winchester."_

* * *

_Yuma, Arizona, January 12th, 1940_

Working in the office has been silent since the New Years party. Once Charlie came in, talking quickly and using her hands to animate the speech but registered the tense atmosphere in the room and basically bolted. At one point Dean needed tools to fix the telegram machine and the only sounds were him cursing under his breath every couple minutes.

Cas wrote page after page after page of training ideas and notes until eventually, it came the time where he and Dean had to actually evaluate their work and come up with a neat copy of a timetable. Neither one got too close, but every time Dean plucked the pen from Cas' hand his heart threatened to let out another panic attack and one point Cas all but shoved Dean out his way making the wheels on his chair push him back. Dean hit him back but nothing escalated from there. 

Neither brought up what happened at New Years and it turned out that when they had a reason to ignore each other and not the sixteen-year-old grudge from before they got work done ten times quicker. Crowley came in at ten at night of the fifth for the presentation and then took all their work. On the tenth, they received folders regarding their transfer to Évreux-Fauville Air Base in France. 

The base was built in the 1920s and as far as civilian knowledge goes it is out of use. The base was designed for advanced aircraft departures and arrivals but is currently being used for training and medical usage rather than the intended purpose. Both enemy and the country itself believe it to be empty and so all allied countries are working harder than ever to keep that belief going. 

The units going through training were sent out on the eleventh whereas Cas and Dean are expected to be flown over tomorrow night. Benny's sat opposite Dean in the room that was once Dean's shared office with Cas, now empty of all their notes and any sign of ever being used. Benny's sat on a chair by the window, ankles crossed over each other and legs spread out as far as they can go. He's chewing on a toothpick and looking at Dean intently.

Dean's sat on one of the chairs by the table, feet propped up on the edge with a bottle of beer at his fingers and eyes trained on the door as if he's expecting someone to come through. 

"What's got ya so worked up, brother?"

Dean shook his head. "Nothing."

"Ya ain't that good of a liar, Dean."

Dean looked back at Benny, putting his beer down on the floor and sighing. "Cas is mad at me."

"Again?"

"No," Dean said sarcastically, "We were peachy before. He glares at everyone he likes."

Benny rolled his eyes, turning back to the window and fiddling with his toothpick. "Ya used to have a thing with the guy didn't ya?"

Dean stayed silent as he played with his thumbs in his lap. He thought back on all the times they said they loved each other and the unspoken promises about the future. He thought of the accident that happened when Cas was in Hawaii and then the years of PTSD and suffering afterward. Eventually, Dean nodded, "I loved him, Christ I loved him so much."

"What happened?"

"There was an-" Dean cut himself off, kicking his feet off the table and standing up properly, "I was a dick." Was all he muttered before he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Benny watched through the window as Dean left the building and jogged down the stairs, heading towards his barracks.

Dean didn't look back once, knowing fully well that Benny was watching him, and it wasn't until he shut his door behind him that he let the tears fall. 

* * *

_Kansas,1923_

_Dean won't talk about what happened. That piece of information was clear from the moment Sam and Bobby picked him up from the train station. Dean also wasn't the same guy that left._

_Sam can remember clearly that when Dean first went to Ohio he still had light in his eyes and his smile reached his ears; but the guy that came back was battered and bruised, dead behind the eyes and his lips took on the form of a permanent frown. His legs ached constantly and it hurt to move, the bullet wound in his hip didn't help much either. The doctors never had to tell Sam that his older brother was experiencing PTSD - it was something Sam concluded on his own._

_Sam had just finished up Law School when they got the call, and he was quick to put off all the plans he had made with friends and school mates. It was the first time during the war that Sam realized there was another world beside school, and that the world was one that Dean was facing the trauma of all alone._

_Dean's sat on the porch steps, just out of reach of the rain and he's clutching something tight between his fists. Sam's watching from the door, hugging his waist to try and fight the cold. Dean doesn't seem affected by it despite only wearing a pair of slacks and a tee shirt. It's midnight, and Sam would be asleep if it weren't for the fact that he noticed the porch light was on._

_To say that Sam's worried about Dean would be an understatement. The PTSD mixed with the insomnia is causing his older brother to slowly turn into a ghost. Bobby said it was bound to happen eventually; the fighting, the war, the army... it's a recipe for disaster. Sam's seen men come home from war and not be the same, but it wasn't supposed to happen to Dean. Dean wasn't supposed to change, not like other men had. He's tried to understand it, to wrap his head around what happened but the little information he's received isn't enough to go on, and whilst Bobby said he's gone through similar experiences he can't even explain Dean's situation._

_Small, warm hands wrapped around Sam's middle and Jess leaned her head against Sam's bicep. She first came over three days after Dean came home. Sam was worried that Dean would get overwhelmed, especially when Jess went over to where Dean was sitting and sat beside him, but Dean just cracked a small smile at her and didn't do anything else. Jess seems to know how to handle PTSD pretty well, and once let it slip that her father had it when she was a little girl._

_"He'll be okay," Jess whispered._

_Sam pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said nothing, just repressed all the memories of Dean laughing at a much smaller and younger version of Sam as they played with sticks in the backyard, pretending they were guns and that they were helping their dad out on the front. He doesn't want that memory tainted by the knowledge that it's not pretend for Dean anymore; that is his job. His job being the same one that killed their father and took away a part of Dean that he might not get back._

_"Go on," Jess patted his stomach, "Go to bed," Sam opened his mouth to argue but Jess just gave him a pointed look and promised to stay with Dean._

_Dean registered the fact that Jess sat down beside him and tried his hardest not to flinch as her thigh bumped against his own. She didn't move away from him though, and eventually, the feeling of being overwhelmed went away and Dean stopped tensing. He has yet to actually say anything to the girl despite the fact that she's been around 24/7 for the past three weeks._

_"My dad used to have PTSD," Jess said gently, looking straight ahead at a beat up car that's long since seen it's better days. Weeds are growing out of the tires and the door hinges are rusted over from years of disuse and neglect. She felt Dean's eyes on her and took a guess that it was okay to continue._

_"He was part of the army when I was a little girl," She carried on, "I didn't see him a lot but my Ma used to tell me he was a hero and that he was fighting for the better cause. I didn't have a clue what the cause was but when my dad came back I knew I hated it. He wasn't the same anymore and I thought at the beginning that the fight ruined him. When I grew up a bit I realized that I didn't hate the cause I just hated what it did to my dad. I also realized that it didn't ruin him."_

_Jess looked at Dean then, saw his emotionless gaze but also the curiosity in his eyes, "I thought it did because he acted like you," Jess explained, smiling and wiping her eyes as Dean reached out and held onto her hand. She felt the cold metal of a dog tag against her palm and squeezed onto Dean's fingers, "You're not broken Dean, you're not ruined or a lesser version of who you used to be. I know because my Dad got better, he overcame it and he lived a very long, very fulfilling life. He did that because he had something to fight for. He had family who loved him, he had friends supporting him and he came up with his own cause to fight for."_

_"I don't-" Dean coughed, voice rough and gravelly. Jess isn't sure if this is the first time he's spoken since he's gotten back or if he's spoken when she's not around, but either way, it sounds as if he hasn't said anything in a while. "I don't have anything to fight for. Not anymore."_

_"Yes, you do. You have Sam, and Bobby, and everyone who's ever done you any good." Jess whispered into his shoulder. She felt him slide his hand out of hers briefly to cool it down but the dog tag caught on a ring her mother gave her as a teenager. Jess flipped it over in her hands to read the name and serial number, tracing the numbers before the name on it fully sat in her brain._

_"Who's is this." She asked, peering forward to make sure she read it right;_

Novak,  
Castiel  
856-15-0432  
RH Positive  
Christian

_Dean said nothing, just sniffed and looked away. Jess pressed it back into Dean's hands, closing his fingers around the silver tag and holding them there._

_She kissed his temple briefly, "There's another one to fight for," She whispered before standing up and making her way back into Bobby's house. She came out again to drape an Afghan blanket over Dean's shoulders and to set a mug of hot chocolate by his feet before saying goodnight and making her way upstairs. Sam turned from his space by the window when she shut the door behind her, and the look on his face said that he saw it all._

_"He hasn't mentioned a Castiel has he?" Jess asked, slipping out of her nightgown and hanging it up in the closet._

_Sam paused for a moment, eyebrows furrowed before he shook his head,_ _"I'm pretty sure he's said 'Cas' a couple times but it's been too quiet to actually hear. Why?"_

_Jess sighed once again and climbed under the covers, into Sam's arms. "He's got tags that say, 'Novak, Castiel' but he won't say who it is. He looked real upset 'bout it though."_

_"We'll figure it out," Sam kissed her shoulder, "You got him talking at least. That's progress."_

_They stayed up until they saw the porch light flick off and heard Dean's door creak shut. In the morning Dean would sit with them and eat breakfast, shower and go mess around with a car. He would ask Sam if he wanted a coffee and then he would go out with Jess to the market. He would also have three panic attacks throughout the day but it still progressed._

* * *

  _Los Angeles, California, August 1926_

_Cas was discharged after a minor mission went downhill and one of the snipers was nearly killed. His unit was first checked into a psychiatric ward for a series of tests and diagnostics, but Cas was given the all clear within a couple of hours. He traveled from Shawnee, Kansas to Los Angeles, California where he knew Jimmy was staying with his wife and daughter, Claire._

_Had Cas known he was 36.5 miles and approximately 40 minutes away from Dean at the time he properly would have made a detour._

_Whilst it's common that priests and preachers live on church grounds Jimmy decided to buy a house about ten minutes away from the church. After getting the call about Cas' unit he quickly set up the guest bedroom and didn't push his twin brother to come out of his room for three days. Eventually, Cas got over the post-trauma and managed to eat meals with the family, as well as take Claire to and from school every day and run errands for Amelia, his sister-in-law, between._

_"Uncle Cas," Claire, a blonde child of just six years old with a missing front tooth from where she fell from a swing set recently, is stunningly similar to her mother. She bares the same eyes as Jimmy and the same "it-will-be-done" attitude, but one look at her proves that she's her mother's child through-and-through. After Cas managed to remain out of the guest room for more than four hours she became weary of the man, especially as he winces whenever someone brings up Ohio and wears two sets of dog tags rather than one. Over time, however, Claire became drawn to the man and now clambers onto his lap whenever he has the chance to sit down._

_Today she's brandishing a book and multiple sheets of math homework, a pencil stuck behind one braid and a suspicious ink stain on her shorts. Cas picked her up before she could fling herself off of the chair she's currently stood on, and returned her grin with an equally toothy one._

_"What's it this time?" He asked, taking a seat and perching his niece on his right knee. Claire flattened out her piece of paper with both palms before reading off the questions, sticking her pencil between her teeth whenever she needed to figure a particularly difficult question out. Amelia smiled from her seat across from them as Claire used Cas' fingers as a counting tool, and continued to fold the laundry in front of her._

_Jimmy returned from the church at precisely six PM and said grace before they dug into their meal. Claire peeked her eyes open to see that Cas wasn't praying with them, but instead just bowed his head slightly and thumbed at the dog tags hanging from his neck._

_"Daddy," Claire started as her father tucked her in that night, "Why doesn't Uncle Cas say grace with us?"_

_Jimmy paused from where he was brushing her hair off of her forehead and swallowed roughly before answering, "Your Uncle doesn't have a lot of faith left, Claire. And that's not a bad thing."_

_"Why, what happened to his faith?" Claire's brows furrowed as her six-year-old mind tried to comprehend it. Growing up around religion has conditioned her into believing that faith is the final resort and that those who don't pray in the name of God are punished for sinning. She's read psalms from the Bible and she prays every Sunday at Church beside her mother. Her friends, family, and teachers all believe, and now one member of her family has seemingly lost all sight of the Lord._

_"Your Uncle..." Jimmy paused again, trying to come up with the right words, "Well, one day, something might happen to you and you might just stop believing. Or you may wake up one morning and stop that way. Something happened to your Uncle, Claire, and he's seen a lot of bad things happen. Sometimes it gets difficult to clearly see what you think is right when you're in his position."_

_"What happened to Uncle Cas?"_

_Jimmy thought of the letter he got a couple weeks ago telling him his brother was involved in the unit that was ambushed in Italy. He thought of the smile that Cas used to have years ago but didn't come back from Ohio. He thought of Cas, at fourteen, freaking out in their childhood bedroom because he realized he was attracted to guys and not girls, and he thought of how his father would get drunk so badly he didn't think twice about hitting Cas with a bottle when Cas came out at fifteen. He remembered Cas was at their father's hospital room two weeks afterward with the bruise still dark on his cheek, and he remembered Cas boarding a train in military uniform at sixteen._

_"A lot of things happened," Jimmy whispered, "But it doesn't make your Uncle any less of a hero."_

* * *

_Yuma, Arizona, January 13th, 1940_

Cas is stood in front of the mirror in his room, fidgeting with the tie that's been securely in place since he tied it six minutes ago, but his hands won't stop moving and he fears that if he manages to finally gain control of them he'll do something stupid. The mirror is stained around the corners from grim and years of dirty fingerprints picked at the already peeling plastic. The rest of his room isn't exactly five-star worthy either, with peeling wallpaper from draughts and damp winters; the carpet should be a pale green but is instead a rusty mud color, and the other pieces of furniture have seen better days. 

None of that matters now, though, because in an hour he'll be boarding the plane that's taking them to France and there they will begin to do actual work. Cas is grateful for the apparently full timetable they'll be receiving because his mind needs preoccupying constantly otherwise it'll rocket him back to News Years and the taste of Dean and cheap beer on his lips and the way Dean pressed Cas closer to him when their lips meet. 

Sleeping in the room opposite Dean for the past thirteen days has been more painful than the days leading up to News Years when Cas was still sure he hated Dean for leaving. Cas knows he's probably overreacting. He can easily pin it down to them both being slightly buzzed and not knowing any better - but Cas knows better. He knows he wanted to kiss Dean, knows he still does and that if he wasn't so stubborn and just knocks on Dean's door they can start all over.

But Cas overthinks everything, always has, and his anxiety wins over every time.

The knock on his open door startles him out of his mind, and his eyes flick up in the mirror to see Charlie leaning against the doorframe with her usual confident ease, "Hiya, thought I'd say goodbye before you head out."

Cas turned and smiled at her, opening his arms for a hug which Charlie dived into, burying her nose into his shoulder and breathing in deeply. "You stay safe now," She whispered, "You're due back in a couple months and I'm not planning on leaving until you do."

 _I won't make a promise I can't keep_ , Cas wanted to say. He didn't think he could promise Charlie to return and live to see the day where he comes back, not because he thinks he'll die overseas, but because he knows the heartbreak of returning only to see his loved one has left. But Cas just swallowed, shut his eyes and whispered the promise into Charlie's hair. 

When Cas opened his eyes again he met Dean's, the green of his iris bright and slightly glossy as Dean himself stands in the doorway, one hand raised to knock on the wood. Dean's fist falls back to his side just as Charlie pulls away to place a kiss on Castiel's cheek, mere centimeters away from the corner of his mouth. Charlie wiped away a stray tear, saw Dean and rushed over to give him the same affection she had just given Cas.

Cas heard Dean's duffel hit the floor as Dean wrapped his arms around the redhead, and Cas heard vague mumbles being exchanged between the pair as he finished zipping up his own bag. When Cas looked back up again Charlie was wiping her eyes and giving them both one small wave before disappearing. Dean arched his back to watch her go, his hands holding onto the doorframe to steady himself when he looked back up.

"You ready?" He asked, jaw tensing as he ground his teeth together. Cas surveyed his room once more before facing Dean again to nod, except he stopped short and sucked in a breath as Dean appeared in front of him, invading his personal space. Dean flicked his eyes up briefly to look at Cas' face before he looked down again and reached forward to fix the askew tie and medals on Cas' uniform. Dean's own uniform is crumpled now, presumably from where Charlie hugged him, and Cas swallowed thickly at the way Dean's uniform stretched tight against his arms. 

"She gets upset about people leaving," Dean said gently, moving from one badge to another as Cas does nothing but stare at him as he talks, "Her mom was hospitalized when she was twelve and Charlie blames herself. Told me when we left high school that her mom got in a car accident on her way to pick Charlie up from a slumber party." Cas drew in a breath and Dean just nodded sadly. 

"Her mom's still alive, barely. She's over in Lebanon on a life support machine." Dean explained, "Charlie sneaks in every now and again to sit with her, and she's been saying she's planning on signing the forms to take her mother off of life support. She's only kept it going because she wants to believe that she'll wake up and she can apologize. I think she knows now that she can't, but she's coming to it eventually. I guess that's why she wants everyone to come back."

At the last sentence Dean looks up at Cas, his hands falling back to his sides again and Cas looks at his uniform to find it in the pristine condition the army expects. He reaches forwards and fixes Dean's, registering the hard muscle of his chest against his hands as he works and the large intake of breath that Dean takes. Cas is quick with it, not wanting to touch Dean any longer than he needs to.

But when he goes to take a step back Dean catches his wrists and tugs him forward again. 

"Dean," Cas says softly, refusing to meet Dean's eyes. It's the closest they've been since News Years and Cas is getting ready to spiral into a panic attack.

"No, listen to me," Dean said, his officer voice is on and he's setting his jaw again like he does when he's serious. Cas remembers mocking Dean's 'serious face' when they were in Ohio and the way Dean all but tackled him onto the floor afterward. 

"Dean," Cas tries again.

"Cas." 

Cas huffs and looks Dean in the eye, logging Dean's expression as one of ache and guilt. Cas tries to stay angry, tries to remember the betrayal and abandonment he felt when he found Dean had gone. He tries to tap back into the anger he would take out on a boxing bag in California and the amount of times he resorted to alcohol and drugs just for a few hours of escape from the hurt. 

"Why won't you just listen?" Dean's voice cracks and Cas snapped.

"Because you left." He ground out, freezing in his place. "You left. You left when you promised to stay and I don't know why I'm still so heartbroken over it."

"Cas-"

"You lied," Cas whispered.

Dean looks as if Cas had just slapped him, "What?"

"You lied," Cas repeated, "You said you loved me. You made me fucking  _believe_ you. You made me love you back and then you tore it all away.  _You. Left._ "

Dean took three steps and ran a hand through his short hair. His entire posture is tense as if he's ready to throw a punch and if it weren't for the fact that Castiel is beyond pissed off he would probably be a bit afraid of him.

"I never-" Dean stopped and looked at Cas, his eyes teary before he raised a finger and pointed it at Cas, "I did not leave you."

He glared when Cas went to argue, and Cas shut his mouth again.

"I didn't want it to happen the way it did and you have no right to hold a grudge when you don't know the full story-"

"Then enlighten me, Dean!"

"No!" Dean roared, moving to slam the door shut and all but pushing Cas against the opposite wall within a matter of seconds. Dean's fingers dug into Cas's shoulders and Cas hates to admit he feels slightly turned on underneath all the anger. 

"I didn't-"

The thing about Dean is that he can show all known emotions under the sun within a single conversation and transition between them quickly. In the past ten seconds, he's gone from angry and red faced to seemingly broken and teary, and Cas didn't think as he lifted up a hand to cup Dean's cheek and chase the fallen tears with his thumb.

Dean hiccuped at tried again, "I didn't leave you, Cas. Not intentionally anyway. And God knows I want to tell you but I... I  _can't_. It hurts too much."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Dean," Cas whispered. "I'm either pissed at you or I'm getting drunk and kissing you or... I don't know how to be around you anymore," Dean pushed their foreheads together and their breaths mingled in the space between their chins, "Talk to me."

"I can't, Cas," Dean breathed out, "I want to, trust me. But every time I try to tell someone it kicks in again and I don't want the pain to happen again."

"Then what, Dean? I can't sit here and pretend nothing happened. I can't look at you not knowing the story and just act like everything's fine again."

Dean sighs, closing his eyes and Cas knows he'll regret it when they're apart again, but when Dean leans in Cas just closes his eyes and kisses him back. Cas is still cupping Dean's face and Dean still has his nails pressed into the shoulders of Cas' uniform, and it's not much of a kiss - more of a press of their lips - but it's enough to set every cliche thought off in Cas' head. He can't push himself into pulling away and eventually they both part for a breath. 

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered against Cas' neck and before Cas even comprehend it Dean's shutting the door after him as he leaves.

Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts are more than welcome in the comment section, or on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deanisbiandlovescas)


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean purposely didn't look back as he picked up his bag and shut the door to Cas' room after him. He purposely didn't go seek out Charlie, Benny or Kevin, and when Cas sat at the opposite end of the carriage ten minutes later Dean purposely didn't look up. 
> 
> But it didn't stop it from hurting. 
> 
> It did, it hurt so bad - worse than the accident, worse than the bullet he took to the shoulder once. It hurt so much worse than losing Cas the first time. Because back then he had Cas, but he knows now that it's wrong, that it shouldn't have ever happened.
> 
> And the thought is so painful it might just kill Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot shorter than the other chapters, but it holds a lot of information about Dean's backstory that needs to be known before the next chapter. Also, I haven't posted in a while.  
> Hopefully the next chapter will be up within the next couple days, however, I am in the middle of my final exams and I'm finding less and less time to write.  
> Anyway, enjoy!  
> \- Emory

_Urbana, Illinois, July 26th, 1907_

_Luci and Micheal share a room, right next to Jimmy and Cas' small room. Gabe and Balthazar both have their own, only because Gabe sleeps in what used to be their mother's study and Balthazar renovated the basement a couple months ago. The difference between Luci and Micheal's room compared to Jimmy and Cas', is that Luci and Micheal have their own beds._

_Luci, being the oldest of the six children, has their parent's old king sized bed, whereas Micheal has a regular double bed. Their room is just big enough to fit both insides, however, they have had to store their clothes in drawers that slid under the bed, and each has a small suitcase filled with regular reading books. Everything else, like medals and trophies, fit on shelves around the walls; loose pens stashed on the window ledge and hidden in corners. Jimmy and Cas, also, have a bed designed for two people, which takes up the majority of their room and is big enough for the two five-year-olds to share each night._

_Luci's bed, Cas has decided, is the best to sleep in when a storm's raging outside, and Luci himself is the best to go to for comfort. Jimmy prefers sleeping in with Gabe, the twelve-year-old providing enough comfort to calm down Jimmy, but his skin's too cold for Cas' liking and his bed is lumpy. Plus, Gabe grumbles and goes right back to sleep once the twins crawl under the covers. Jimmy likes it, but Cas goes straight into Luci's bed._

_Micheal barely made a sound as Cas opened the creaking door, just turned over and pulled his covers up over his head. Luci stayed perfectly still and only opened his eyes when Cas scrambled up and under his covers. Luci rolled onto his back and let his youngest brother crawl onto his chest._

_"It's okay Cassie," Luci whispered into Cas' brown hair when a crack of lightning rattled the window panes, "It's just a little storm, it won't hurt ya."_

_Cas didn't believe him. The last time there was a noise as big as the thunder and lightning outside was when their mother slammed the door shut after she left, not even ten days ago, and that's left a giant hole in his chest that hurts every day. Luci fell asleep after ten minutes, the comforting hand rubbing Cas' back seizing. Micheal rolled back over and blinked awake, winking at Cas when he stood up from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom._

_Cas took the opportunity and dived into his other brother's bed. When Micheal came back he just let Cas draw patterns on his back with his finger until, eventually, Cas fell asleep. Micheal stood again, gathering Cas up in his arms and sneaking out his room, retrieving Jimmy from Gabe's bed on his way. He tucked them both into bed and shut the door after him, making sure that Jimmy had his toy in his hands and that Cas was closest to the wall and furthest from the window._

_He went to go back to his own bed, but he heard his father stumble his way down the stairs and out the front door, locking it with unneeded force. Micheal sighed, catching the sight of Luci leaning against the banister, watching the door._

_"You got the twins?" Luci asked. Micheal nodded and turned to get the twins again. Jimmy mumbled something incoherent as Micheal picked them up and headed towards Gabe's room once again. The twelve-year-old woke up and hugged his pillow as he wandered down the hall towards Luci and Micheal's room. Luci jogged back up the stairs with Balthazar in tow, and the six children huddled in Luci's bed. The eldest three stayed awake until they heard their father stumble back in the house at around five in the morning, and Balthazar wrapped his arm tighter around the sleeping twins on his chest when the strong scent of alcohol washed through the door when their father passed by._

_The whiskey bottle would by empty by morning, and Micheal would be gone by evening the minute he turned eighteen. Cas would watch him from his bedroom window until Balthazar pulled him away. That night they would all pretend they didn't see their father pour whiskey into his dinner glass, and they would ignore Micheal's empty seat. In three months Balthazar would leave for Manhatten with his then-girlfriend, and by the time Cas turned thirteen it was only him, Jimmy and Gabe left. In a later three years, Cas would wave goodbye to Gabriel, board a train to California with Jimmy and enlist in the army._

* * *

Arizona Train Station, January 14th, 1940

Dean purposely didn't look back as he picked up his bag and shut the door to Cas' room after him. He purposely didn't go seek out Charlie, Benny or Kevin, and when Cas sat at the opposite end of the carriage ten minutes later Dean purposely didn't look up. 

But it didn't stop it from hurting. 

It did, it hurt so bad - worse than the accident, worse than the bullet he took to the shoulder once. It hurt so much worse than losing Cas the first time. Because back then he had Cas, but he knows now that it's wrong, that it shouldn't have ever happened.

And the thought is so painful it might just kill Dean.

* * *

  _New York City, 1923_

_"How are you feeling today, Dean?" Doctor Hunter is sitting opposite him, dressed in a crisp three-piece suit underneath a white, doctor's coat. He's wearing glasses, has a small leather notebook on his lap and an expensive pen tapping against his knee. Dean remembers that his mother used to have a pen like that. It was properly the most expensive thing in the house at the time, and it was used to fill out bills and important letters. The letters usually went to John when he was fighting on the front lines until he passed away and the pen was locked in Mary's bedside cabinet. Dean didn't go looking for it after the fire, and it's the first time he's remembered it since._

_"Dean," Doc said again, scribbling something down, "How are you feeling today?"_

_"Fine."_

_"Have you been-"_

_"Having urges to screw a dude?" Dean interrupted, meeting the doctor's eyes daringly, "No offense, Doc, but you sure ain't my type."_

_Doctor Hunter sighed, turning to his assistant and nodding. The assistant can't be any older than nineteen, and he only hesitated for a brief second before pressing a button on the desk and watched as Dean screamed in agony at the shock of electricity bolted through the wires and into his arm. They've been at this new form of "curing" Dean for the past two hours now, and so far Dean's been shocked fifteen times. His palms are bloody from his nails digging into them, and his body hurts beyond belief. His lips and throat are dry, his eyes constantly flicking up to eye the glass of water the doctor has placed beside his notebook._

_"Dean," Doctor Hunter said when his assistant turned down the voltage so it was just a dull throb. Dean has his head hanging down to look at his lap, and his neck feels too weak to muster up enough courage to look at him._

_"You are making this harder than it should be." Doctor Hunter stood up, strode towards Dean and used his hands to direct Dean's attention to his face. "Now, how are you feeling today, Dean?"_

_Dean swallowed around nothing and whimpered as the doctor held tightly onto his bruised face, "I'm feeling better, Doctor."_

_"Good," The smile Dean received looks sadistic and Dean squeezed his shut so he can pretend he's not submitting to the torture and letting them win, "Have you been feeling as if you'll break again?"_

_Dean shook his head feebly as the doctor let go, "No, sir."_

_"And why is that?"_

_He can feel the tears brimming in his eyes, and he thinks of Cas._

_"Dean, why is that?"_

_He thinks of how Cas smiled at him, laughed at his stupid jokes and kissed him like he was a dying man who just found his lifeline._

_"Dean."_

_He thinks of the way Cas moaned into his shoulder and sucked bruises into his hips and stomach so they would be hidden later on._

_"Dean."_

_He thinks of how much he loves the stupid idiot, of how much he wants to find him and just apologize, again and again, holding Cas tight and never letting go again._

_"Dean!" Doc's raised his voice now, tone sharp as if he's talking to a disobedient dog, "Why. Is. That?"_

_"Because-" Dean's throat protested and he gagged. A sharp flash of pain burned his insides and he screamed again, letting the tears fall._

_"Answer me, Dean, and it'll stop."_

_"Because..." Dean whimpered, feeling disgusting and violated, "Because it's wrong." The words sting his throat, twist his stomach painfully and are_ lies. _Dean knows that, knows that Doctor Hunter and everyone else here is trying to get him convinced of lies._

_The pain stopped suddenly, and the assistant took of Dean's restraints. He took away all the equipment attached to Dean, and then Doctor Hunter is standing over Dean with the glass of water in his hands. He holds the back of Dean's head and brings the glass to his lips, watching as Dean gulps down the entire glass in three swallows, some excess dripping down his chin and onto his shirt._

_Dean doesn't hear what he says afterward, just knows that eventually they both leave and Dean's left sitting in that god-awful chair. He puts himself into a freezing cold shower, not even wincing as the icy water assaults his bullet wound in his shoulder. He stands under the spray, tilting his face back and holding his breath. He knows that if he stays long enough it will get difficult to breathe, but he doesn't care._

_It's been difficult for him to breathe for months now. It became suffocating when the nurses took away Cas' dog tags and dropped them into the fire in his room. They stupidly left before the metal burned completely, and Dean blistered his hands when he dug it out of the still alive flames. The blackened tags are lying in the bottom of his suitcase, away from prying eyes and sadistic doctors._

_Dean promised he'll give them back to Cas when they next see each other._

_He hopes Cas won't be too angry about the burn marks._

* * *

January 1940

The train from Yuma to New Bern was around three and a half days. Dean and Cas barely looked at each other and stayed on opposite sides of the carriage. At one point Dean fell asleep, and five minutes later the rain started pouring in from the open window beside him. It wasn't enough to wake Dean up, and Cas made his way over to shut it gently. While he was at it, he moved Dean to lie comfortably across three seats rather than sit up on one. He moved back to his own seat and Dean slept for a couple hours. 

When he awoke he registered that his window was now closed, and looked over at a now-sleeping Cas. He's curled up on himself against the cold of the carriage. Dean found a blanket on the over-hanging bag holders and set it across Cas before returning to his seat and spending the rest of the journey looking out the window. 

The plane from New Bern to Evreux felt as if it took years despite it only being eight hours. Cas is sat opposite Dean with their bags between them, and he spends the entire time staring at his feet. Their rooms are separated by three floors, and Dean finally remembers how to breathe properly when he locks his door behind him. His new uniform and work schedule is already on the desk in the corner of the room, and his eyes see Cas' signature on the front before anything else.

Dean falls backward into bed and fingers the burnt dog tags in his pocket as he falls asleep, and for some reason, he dreams of the first time they said they loved each other.

* * *

  _14th_ _May 1923_

_"What the hell is wrong with you!" Cas growls into Dean's mouth. Dean can taste Cas' tears and feels Cas' wet cheeks pressed against his own, but is too caught up in the fact that Cas is pressing him tightly into the mattress and that his hands are scrambling grab at his face, shoulders, and hands all at once in a blur of desperation._

_The question is rhetorical, and that's a good thing because the only reply Dean can come up with is a strangled moan. It all happened too fast to really sink in for Dean, and now it all comes rushing back. It was supposed to be a simple break-up of protestors that had crowded the streets. At the time it had been a peaceful riot - just groups of teenagers and adults standing at the crossroads and refusing the movement of militant tanks and weaponry. Dean, Cas and a group of foot-soldiers had been sent to break them up, but the rioters didn't seem to want to talk._

_It ended up violently breaking out very quickly, and Dean can't remember if he fired a bullet before the man in front of him did or not, but he does remember the guy pointing a gun at the back of Cas' head. It was almost instinct for Dean, just to cover Cas' back, and the man was on the ground with a bullet in his wrist before he could properly squeeze the trigger of his handgun - which he still did anyway. His shot didn't cause any serious injuries. Once Dean's shot rang out everyone screamed and ducked to avoid any oncoming disasters. Cas ducked seconds before the stranger's bullet zoomed overhead and embedded itself into the wall of a corner store opposite them._

_Everyone was quick to either run away or stay still and let the army escort them back home. Dean and his team were checked over in the medical room which took less than ten minutes, and Cas was held to give a statement._

_"You could have been fired, Dean!" Cas moved to mouth at Dean's jaw, feeling the stubble rub against his chin. He paused, heavily panting onto Dean's neck as Dean clutched at the back of his uniform and choked back a sob into Cas' hair. "What were you even thinking?"_

_"I'm sorry, God I'm so sorry." Dean did sob this time, blinking away the tears that pooled in his eyes, "I just- he pointed the gun at you and I freaked out. I thought-"_

_Cas pushed their foreheads together and wiped away Dean's stray tears. Dean's staring up at him with red, wet eyes and a wobbling bottom lip, and Cas's breath was lodged in his throat as Dean grabbed his cheeks and kissed him. Their usual kisses are quick and hurried, full of need and desperation and worry of being caught. It's been like that since they started sleeping together a couple months ago, and whilst Dean gets off from it and wouldn't change it for the world, he slows the pace down._

_Cas doesn't try to speed things up. He lets down kiss him slowly and lick his way into his mouth. He lets Dean hold onto the back of his neck and onto his hair without trying to rock their hips together, and when Dean slides his hand down to Cas' chest he's pleased to find that this makes Cas' heart beat faster than their normal routine. Cas is breathing through his nose as he tries to keep up and he can't remember when he started gripping onto Dean's hips but his fingers are leaving his uniform wrinkled and are pulling them from his slacks._

_"I love you," Dean whispered against swollen lips._

_They both froze at the same time. Dean had absolutely no idea where that came from, or why he said it - he_ meant  _it, of course, he meant it, but when you say you love someone it's typically because you're in a serious, committed relationship with them and not just sleeping with them every other night to try and ignore the war._

_But he meant it. Dean loved Cas; loved his constant sex hair, how the guy has no clue what anyone is actually saying ninety-percent of the time, how the left corner of his mouth tilts up into the smile before the rest of his mouth, how his voice is constantly husky and Dean loves the way Cas looks at him. He loves how he doesn't have to hold up so many burdens around him - and loves most that Cas doesn't push him._

_Sam, Bobby, heck even his own parents and everyone around him would push Dean to either bottle stuff up or let it all out in one big go. After his mother's death, Dean learned to zip his mouth tightly and worry about Sam's issues over his own. Even when John was still alive Dean had not been raised to show emotion. Bobby himself has helped Dean to open up sometimes, but the old man can only do so much._

_Cas though... Cas will listen to what Dean wants and then let Dean remain bottled up unless it becomes unhealthy. Cas takes on some of Dean's own issues if needed, and never makes Dean feel guilty for anything._

_Cas is- well, Cas is a literal angel. Capital 'A', harp and everything._

_And yet, despite Cas being so gentle and subtle most of the time, he's sure as hell stumbling over his thoughts now. He's pushed himself up to lean over Dean on his palms, and his tie is hanging down onto Dean's chest. His lips are parted into an 'o' shape, and his pupils are darting across Dean's face as if he's expecting Dean to jump up and laugh it off as a joke._

_"I... what?!"_

_Dean's read books and watched a couple silent movies as a teenager with some chick he found interesting, and in every single scene where they confess their love one of the pair is normally stumbling on their words when asked to repeat them. Dean though, just cracks a toothy smile and whispers back again, "I love you, Castiel."_

_It may be the 'love' part or the use of his full name for the first time in months, but Cas breaks out into the biggest grin Dean's ever seen and then he's surging forwards to capture Dean's mouth again. Dean laughs as their noses collide and their teeth clash, and Cas chuckles too before kissing Dean properly._

_"Say it again." Cas murmurs and Dean says it again. And three more times as Cas requests._

_Cas pulls away and his eyes are shiny all over again - this time with happy tears. Dean smiles and his heart actually stops beating as Cas rubs their noses together and laughs._

_"I love you too, Dean."_

_Dean launches forward to kiss Cas again so hard that they tumble off of the bed, and Cas laughs through it all as Dean sucks a bruise into his chest._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts are more than welcome in the comment section, or on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deanisbiandlovescas)


End file.
